


A Moment of Weakness

by nan



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Banter, Drinking, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 05:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11373624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nan/pseuds/nan
Summary: “Oh wow, Zell, look!” Selphie said, bouncing in her seat and tugging on Zell’s arm. “A festival! They’re having a festival! I can see it from here!”





	A Moment of Weakness

The train ride seemed to be taking forever. Zell sighed as he tilted his head back against the headrest. It was hot out, the air so thick with moisture that it was hard to breath and his clothes stuck to his skin; in comparison, the air in the train was cool but stale, recycled, and the dampness from outside lingered on his clothes, causing goosebumps to raise on his skin. 

This mission was a simple one and for that he was grateful, even though he’d argued with Squall about the party assignments. Selphie was fine, fun even, though she was kind of terrible at listening and following orders. However. 

Zell rolled his shoulders, the leather of his gloves creaking as he curled his hands into fists. However he and Irvine were currently on the outs and Squall knew that. _Jerk’s having a power trip_ , he thought and immediately felt kinda bad about it. 

“Oh wow, Zell, look!” Selphie said, bouncing in her seat and tugging on Zell’s arm. “A festival! They’re having a festival! I can see it from here!” 

“Yeah, me too,” Zell said, wincing as her short nails dug into his skin. “You know we’re here on a mission, right?” 

Selphie paused her bouncing to turn and look at him. “So? We’re not set to start the mission until tomorrow morning. We have plenty of time to party!” 

“Uh, yeah, no, we’re heading out early tomorrow morning-”

“So? Ugh, come oooooon, Zell, stop being such a sourpuss!” 

“What’re you two arguing about?” 

The third member of their party showed up and Selphie grinned at him as he sat down. “Irvine, the festival’s already getting set up! And,” she peered out the window. “There’s a stage!” She turned, eyes practically glowing with excitement. “Irvine, there’s a stage! Can’t you play the guitar?” 

Irvine smirked, tipping his hat to her. “Of course I can. I learned when I was a kid. I might be a bit rusty but,” he winked. “I bet I can play as good as anyone else that’ll be there.” 

Selphie clasped her hands together. “Oh gosh, you have to play,” she said.

Irvine bowed his head so that his hat shielded his eyes. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m not sure I can do it. Technical skill is one thing but being able to share my emotions through music...I don’t know.” 

“Okay,” Zell cut in, disgusted with Irvine’s theatrics. “Are you guys forgetting why we’re here? A mission, not a festival.” 

“Stop being so boring, Zell,” Selphie said. The train came to a slow stop and they all swayed with the motion. As they gathered up their things, she continued. “You know Squall won’t care about what else we do here except for the mission, so it’s not against the rules or anything.” 

“I guess,” Zell said finally, blowing air out through his teeth. “But remember, we have an infestation to deal with tomorrow! So no staying out too late.” 

Selphie gave a triumphant whoop. “Awesome! Those monsters won’t stand a chance against us! We’re going to be revved up on good food and good music! This is going to be great!” She rushed off the train, presumably heading to their hotel.

Zell watched her go, a helpless smile on his face, before Irvine leaned heavily against his shoulder. “Should be a good time,” he murmured against Zell’s ear. “You gonna dance for me, Zell? I’ll play just for you.” 

Zell shoved him off. “Stop it,” he said, awkwardly shuffling off the train with his own luggage. “You weren’t any help, you asshole. You just had to play the sad cowboy, get her even more excited about that dumb festival.” 

“What’s the big deal?” Irvine said. “Is this a no fun mission, is that it? Zell’s decided that he’s not going to have a good time if he can help it?” 

“Missions aren’t suppose to be fun,” Zell said stiffly. 

“Everything’s supposed to be fun,” Irvine said with a roguish smile. 

Zell flushed and rubbed the back of his head. “You guys have fun at that fucking festival.”

Irvine caught his arm. “No, don’t be like that,” he said. “It’ll be fun. You need to relax, boss.” His grinned softened into something a little wry, a little sad. “I know you practically worship Squall but you don’t have to style your leadership skills after his.” 

“I don’t fucking worship Squall,” Zell said, the sentence starting as a yell and ending in a hiss when he realized they were still on a crowded train. “I respect the guy and he’s my _friend_. That’s it.” 

“Then don’t be such a stick in the mud,” Irvine urged, tugging Zell closer. “It’ll be fun, Zell.” 

*** 

Zell tapped his foot, trading his drink from one hand to the other, the condensation making his gloves slippering. Around him people laughed and sang and somewhere in the crowd, Selphie was cackling. Irvine, of course, had made his way on stage, strumming a guitar as a singer crooned into a microphone. 

A girl bumped into him and Zell dropped his drink. “Aw, shit,” he said. 

“I’m sorry,” she said with a drunken chuckle, before being tugged away by her boyfriend. Zell waved them off before turning and nearly running into Irvine. 

“C’mon, babe,” he said, curling an arm around Zell’s shoulders and tugging him close. “They’re about to play a slow one.” He grinned at Zell’s face. “C’mon, please? Just one.” 

Zell glared up at him for a moment before sighing. “Shit, fine.” 

Irvine grinned, slowly and rakishly, before pulling Zell closer, one arm around his shoulders and the other around his his waist. He rested his chin on Zell’s head. “You’re the perfect height for this kind of thing.” 

Zell frowned and knocked his head against Irvine’s chin. “Watch it.” 

“It was a compliment,” Irvine said, humor coloring his voice. Zell snorted and tucked his head against Irvine’s shoulder. They fell quiet after that, swaying gently together to the sounds of murmured voices and laughter, music floating on the air. Red and purple lights strung together hung from above and Zell closed his eyes, tucking himself further into Irvine’s tall frame. 

“Hey,” Irvine murmured. “Are you glad you came?” 

“...I guess,” Zell said, knowing he was never going to hear the end of this. But when he felt a barely there kiss pressed against his temple, he knew he would okay with that. _Maybe_.


End file.
